


and there's no remedy for memory

by tenienteross



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Leon being a softie with Sherry, Nightmares, Post-RE2make, Resident Evil 2 Remake Spoilers, Sherry is the sweetest girl too, a bit of angst and a bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 15:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17685998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenienteross/pseuds/tenienteross
Summary: Three months have passed, but he still relives Raccoon City in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes it’s the town, its dark alleys and corners,  the rotting smell that hasn’t left him yet, the blood and guts splattered on the walls of the RPD. The stomping sounds reverberating around the building, while its foundation creaked under the endless rain.Other times, he relives Ada’s death.





	and there's no remedy for memory

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set in RE2make timeline, but following some of the previous canon. That is: at some point, Claire left to keep searching for Chris and Sherry & Leon were brought into custody by the goverment. For this fic, they have been reallocated in a safehouse until further notice.

_Shut up, I’ve got you!_

Her gaze pierces through him, a glimmer at the corner of her eyes.

_It’s not worth it._

He wants to shout that it is, it fucking is.

_Don’t do this…_

His plead is in vain, her arm sliding off his grip. Everything is coming down, like an earthquake threatening to swallow them whole. It’s deafening, all the noise mixed up with the blaring alarm voice that reminds them they have very few minutes to spare. 

But all Leon sees are her eyes, staring at him as she slips off his grasp. It’s like nothing else matters in that instant and this is all he can focus on.

_Take care of yourself, Leon._

One blink and she’s falling down, engulfed by a pit of bottomless darkness. His yell is like thunder in his throat, the warmth of her hand still present in his forearm. 

Leon wakes up abruptly, covered in sweat, his fist gripping at the sheets so strongly his knuckles are turning white. Panting, he looks around and takes a few seconds to catch his own breath. 

He’s not in the NEST anymore. The distant sounds of cars and nightlife remind him where he is—a city, but a living one. The window’s blinds are down, though some light manages to leak inside the bedroom. This is not Raccoon City, he tells himself. It’s Washington D.C. and he’s in a safehouse.

The gasping slows down, lessening the pressure from his chest. He drags his legs down the bed, elbows resting on his knees as he takes a few more minutes to calm down. It isn’t the first time he’s woken up in this state—and it won’t be the last, probably.

Three months have passed, but he still relives Raccoon City in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes it’s the town, its dark alleys and corners, the rotting smell that hasn’t left him yet, the blood and guts splattered on the walls of the RPD. The stomping sounds reverberating around the building, while its foundation creaked under the endless rain. 

Other times, he relives Ada’s death. 

It’s become a sickening routine—it’s there every time he closes his eyes to catch some needed sleep, unchanging and shattering. It keeps him awake some nights, eyes staring pointlessly at the ceiling, the memory of her face imprinted in his mind. Her initial cold stares, the warm smile after he saved her in the sewers, the piercing glare when her lie was exposed, the conflicted grimace when she realised she could not shoot him, the sadness in her gaze as she fell down.

Leon shuts his eyes closed, frowning, fingers pressing against his temples. His agitated breathing hasn’t stopped when the bedroom’s door creaks sheepishly.

Under the frame, hidden by shadows, he can distinguish the small figure of Sherry peeking.

“Sherry?” he asks, rising his head. 

She is hugging a tiny Teddy bear, hiding half her face behind the stuffed toy.

“I’m sorry. I heard you scream and…” she mumbles apologetically.

Leon feels terrible. Sherry has her own share of nightmares—the poor girl doesn’t need him waking her up. He’s supposed to take care of her, that’s why he’s here. She needs him. He shouldn’t be the one scaring her.

He raises his hands and gives her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Sherry shrugs nonchalantly, still squeezing the Teddy bear between her arms. 

“I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“You had nightmares too?” She nods, burying her face in the bear, and Leon pats a spot on the bed beside him. “Wanna talk about it?”

Sherry accepts the invitation gladly, mostly happy at the prospect of not being by herself. She sits on the mattress, her feet barely touching the floor as they hang from the bed. 

“It’s just that I miss Claire,” the girl admits with a downcast gaze. 

“I’m sure she will be back in no time—and I bet she misses you as much,” he adds warmly. “You can try to write her letters, as she told you.”

“Hmpf,” she nods again vigorously, with a newfound resolve only kids seem capable of. “Can I ask you a question, Leon?”

He chuckles at her sudden coyness, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sure. What is it?”

“Who is Ada?”

The question leaves him frozen, throat dry and cold sweat dripping down the shirt he uses to sleep. He looks down inadvertently, bites his lower lip. Children never ask easy questions, it seems. 

“She was… a woman I met. In Raccoon City.”

Sherry ponders in silent, then blinks and stares at him with a serious face. “Was she your girlfriend?”

He has to laugh out loud at that, even if it makes something squirm inside him. “What’s with you and girlfriends?”

Once again, Sherry just shrugs innocently. “You looked pretty sad. Is she ok?”

Leon gulps, notices his voice is about to break and he doesn’t want that in front of Sherry. “No, she is not.”

He feels her tiny hand resting over his, and she glances up to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry, Leon.”

Leon knows he’s the adult here, even if he barely feels like one. He has to protect Sherry, to reassure her everything will be fine, no matter what happens to them—but maybe now he realises he needs the presence of this sweet, caring little girl just as much. 

“Hey, since we’re a couple of night owls,” he says, clearing his throat, and beaming a big smile at the girl, “how do you feel about a nice, hot cocoa in the middle of the night?”

Sherry’s face lights up as if he has just offered her the most valuable treasure in the world. She jumps in joy, wiggling the poor Teddy bear in excitement.

“Yes, I’d love that!”

Leon stands up, offering her his hand. “Excellent. You take care of the milk and I’ll get the mugs.”

Sherry giggles as they walk out of the room, their hands clasped together. Just like they did three months ago, covered in dirt and blood. Leon doesn’t think the nightmares will ever go—not the ones about the city and the undead, and not the ones about _her_. 

But, for tonight, he will enjoy some peace of mind.


End file.
